


Blood Rose of the Opera

by Hierarchical



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Children, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Children, F/F, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Human/Vampire Relationship, Surprise Kissing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:47:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22772803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hierarchical/pseuds/Hierarchical
Summary: Dorothea Arnault has vampirism, a rare trait in Fódlan. Having to sing for the princess of Adrestia, Edelgard von Hresvelg, that night, she can't help but worry about what she'll think about her fangs when she sees them.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault & Edelgard von Hresvelg, Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Blood Rose of the Opera

_Sing us a song,_ they urge her; Dorothea hates how their faces contort with disgust every time she does. This time, it’s two boys, barely older than her. Dorothea decides to indulge them.

Her pointed canines are like stalactites in her cavernous mouth, rising and falling with the echoing tune. The boys flee in terror like most people do, dropping gold pieces as they do—deliberately or accidentally, Dorothea’s not sure. All she knows is they’re hers now.

As she reaches over to pick them up, a warm hand touches her shoulder. Dorothea swings her head back immediately, a hand on the hilt of her dagger. A sigh of relief escapes her lips once she sees her supposed assailant.

“Dorothea,” Manuela, her mentor at the opera company and personal idol, calls, “are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Dorothea says. “It’s the same old thing as always. They’re scared of me. It’s nothing.”

“I know, dear, but I just…” Turning her head, Manuela brushes her slender fingers through her gingerbread hair. “I worry if it gets to you sometimes.”

Dorothea thinks that’s ironic. She’s been out on the streets since before she can remember. She knows how to handle herself. Those fangs are more than just for show—they’re for piercing necks, cheeks, legs, whatever. They’ve served her well retrieving stolen food.

Regardless of that, though, Dorothea’s lips stretch into a summery smile that seems to brighten her visage beneath her sun hat. It’s the smile that only Manuela sees, and it’s infectious, taking hold of her lips as well.

“I’m fine, Manuela,” Dorothea assures with a small bow. “Trust me! You know how I’ve handled the streets. A few hurt feelings don’t mean much to me anymore. I’m just thankful to have this opportunity that you and all the others at the opera company have given me.”

Manuela taps Dorothea’s shoulder with her hand. “Of course, dear. And I know you’re going to be a big star when you sing in front of the Imperial princess tonight.”

Dorothea freezes as stiff as a statue. The very reminder of it is enough to send her stomach into turmoil. She’s still not prepared to sing on stage in front of the Imperial princess. She’s just so regal. And her fangs are another issue… What would Edelgard think of them?

Dorothea gives a rigid nod. “Yes, of course… I-I don’t think I could forget! I’m quite excited to have the Imperial princess with us tonight! I promise I’ll be looking at her right in the eyes when I’m singing! She’ll feel quite special.”

“Well, I’m sure if you’re staring her down during your entire performance, she’ll be a little creeped out. You might want to rethink that idea. Just look into the back of the room like you usually do. It’ll probably be better for you since you look extremely nervous.”

As expected, Manuela saw right through her. Dorothea sighs and nods as she scratches her right arm. “You’re right. I am a bit nervous. I just want to make sure I do well in front of the Imperial princess.”

“You’ll do just fine, Dorothea,” Manuela says as she ruffles her hair. “I promise.”

Dorothea doesn’t quite believe it. She knows Manuela is trying her best, but she knows she’ll be far from fine. _Edelgard von Hresvelg, the heir to the Imperial throne_ will be there. This is like life or death for her. If it goes well, she might get in the good graces of a woman who could give her all she could ever yearn for! However, if it goes awfully… Edelgard could speak ill of her and nobles would follow suit. Her shows would be empty, she’d probably be back on the streets again!

The very thought of it turns her skin snowflake-white. Above all else, she doesn’t want to starve. 

Dorothea swallows as if attempting to down her worries. Her saliva feels like gravel.

“I’ll do my best,” she says, her smile wavering along with her belief in herself. “Trust me.”

* * *

Traipsing down the busy streets of Enbarr, Dorothea throws glares at everyone she passes as she hugs the loaf of bread she just bought against her chest. The sun’s going down, and growing up on these streets, Dorothea knows first-hand how the night turns beggars into brigands.

A glance at the sky tells her she’s got to be back at the opera house in about an hour or so. She bolts through cluttered boulevards, pushing through crowds of people with a practiced deftness that only an orphan growing up on the streets could have.

Dorothea sees the opera house’s white concrete facade in the distance and speeds up. The world feels like a blur both before and after her right foot is caught on a rock. Flying forward, she squeezes the bread against her chest with primal desperation. Her head slams against the pavement.

“Are you all right?” the voice of a young girl asks. It’s unfamiliar to her.

Dorothea sits up and touches her head; she feels it sting upon contact. Lowering her hand to her eyes, she sees it’s stained crimson. At least her bread is okay…

She looks at the person who was talking to hear and nearly passes out immediately. It’s none other than the Imperial princes, Edelgard von Hresvelg.

She desperately tries to say ‘thank you,’ but the only things that leave her lips are unintelligible mumbles. Edelgard looks at her with distinct concern; she probably wonders if she’s crazy. Then, with wide-eyes, Edelgard asks the one question Dorothea hoped she wouldn’t.

“Those fangs… You’re a vampire, aren’t you…?”

Dorothea, with sweat dripping from her brow, presses her fangs against her lips. “I… I—”

“That doesn’t matter now,” Edelgard says. “Come with me.”

Without even waiting for her to answer, Edelgard takes Dorothea by the hand and leads her into a nearby grimy alley. She’s fearful, eyes darting around her new environment for an escape path if things go south. Her dagger feels heavy on her hip, but she doesn’t dare draw it yet. That’s a definite way to end up executed.

The smell of rotting meat and misery attacks her nostrils—but admittedly, Dorothea is used to it. What surprises her is how well Edelgard takes it; she doesn’t even cover her nose. Isn’t she supposed to be a fancy princess?

“Why did you lead me here?” Dorothea asks.

Edelgard’s only response as she points to a mossy brick wall is, “Sit.”

Dorothea obeys, walking over to Edelgard’s decided location and stooping to the ground. She doesn’t want to ruin her new cherry-strewn sundress. Edelgard walks over and pushes her hands, glowing white and sparkling like stars at midnight, near the cut on Dorothea’s forehead. It stings at first, causing her to clench her jaw.

“Thank you for helping me, Miss Edelgard,” Dorothea whispers as her gaze goes to the ground.

“It’s not an issue at all,” Edelgard says. “But I don’t believe I’ve caught your name.”

“Dorothea. Dorothea Arnault. B-But old friends just call me ‘Thea!’”

“Thea,” Edelgard repeats with a small smile. “I like it. It’s a very lovely nickname. You can call me ‘El.’”

Dorothea’s cheeks turn rose-red. The Imperial princess just called her nickname lovely! She isn’t sure how to feel about this situation. On one hand, she feels as if she should bend on one knee and cover Edelgard’s hand in kisses. On the other, she’s starting to see her as… just a girl not much older than she is, rather than some fancy uptight princess.

“El,” Dorothea repeats; she thinks that name sounds lovely leaving her lips, even though she feels somewhat strange using it. “I… I like it. It’s a nice nickname, Miss Edelgard.”

Edelgard pouts. The very expression is enough to make Dorothea’s skin turn pale.

“I told you that you can call me ‘El,’” Edelgard says with a bitter harshness that rivals the more unkind vocal coaches in the opera company.

Gulping, Dorothea turns her head and bleats, “I-I’m sorry, El!”

El blinks, frowns, then wraps her arms around Dorothea’s lithe frame. Dorothea is shocked at first, but gives in, wrapping her arms around Edelgard as well. She was warm and soft—a stark contrast to her frigid words moments ago.

Dorothea isn’t quite sure why she feels tears welling up in her eyes. She doesn’t appreciate being snapped at, but on the other hand, it always makes her feel valued when she gets a long hug like this. Perhaps it’s a bit of both.

“I’m sorry,” Dorothea says, but El raises a hand immediately, stopping her from speaking further.

“It’s fine,” El says. “It was my fault… I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I have issues with my tone sometimes, and I’m a bit miffed, to tell the truth. It’s not your fault, though, and wasn’t right for me to take my anger out on you…”

“Oh?” Dorothea stands up. “Might I ask why you’re upset…?”

El raises an eyebrow. “You would truly help me shoulder my burdens…?”

“Well, you healed me. I think I wouldn’t mind listening to you. Um, if you want to listen to a commoner like me. I hope you realize I have no… noble standing or anything like that…”

“I know,” El says with a small smile. “Frankly, I don’t quite care either. Commoner, noble, or even a vampire, a friend is a friend. I believe that such things shouldn’t matter in choosing who is a good friend and who is not. I’d rather decipher that by your actions.”

Her lips stretch into a faint smile. Dorothea agrees. That’s certainly the right way to choose friends. El has a good head on her shoulders if she thinks like this so young.

“I agree,” Dorothea starts, “but many people don’t see it like that. Many people I’ve met growing up weren’t fond of me because I was a commoner. My vampirism made things even worse… People thought I was a monster. No one would… accept me or want to be my friend…”

El stoops down and places a hand on Dorothea’s shoulder. Looking in the Imperial princess’ amethyst eyes, she can see a resolve so radiant it’s like the summer sun, turning her cheeks red and forcing her to look away... It isn’t youthful optimism, either—it’s the resolve of someone with a purpose. El believed every word she said. Maybe there could be a real change in Enbarr when they grow up…

“I accept you,” El proclaims, not caring about how her voice echoes throughout the alleyway. In fact, from her smile, Dorothea’s certain that she’s rather proud of that statement. “In fact, I think your fangs are really cool! You don’t drink blood or anything like that, do you?”

Dorothea shakes her head. “No, of course not… I just… have fangs and break out in the sunlight sometimes. It’s nothing like the monsters in children’s stories.”

“You’re the first I’ve met, and I’ve been all over Fódlan. I suppose it’s just as rare as the rumors say it is.”

Dorothea scratches her arm and nods. “I suppose so.” She pauses for a moment, then asks, “Why did you want me as your friend? I know I probably shouldn’t inquire about such a kind gesture, but… we just met.”

“Well, that’s the thing,” El says. She pauses for a moment to bite her lip. “I… don’t really have many friends. I had friends in Faerghus, but I was forbidden from seeing them. That’s what’s making me a little mad. I only was just told today. I was hoping I could make some new friends here in Enbarr.”

“Why are you forbidden from having contact with them?”

“Reasons I don’t want to talk about right now…”

That statement makes Dorothea curious, but she chooses not to press it. She only nods instead. “I’ll be your friend. Don’t worry. Come back to Enbarr and I’ll show you all the places I like to go!”

“I’ll be sure to ask my father for a visit every now and again, then.” El pulls her fingers through one of her platinum ponytails and giggles. “I’m sure I’ll have a lot of fun if I’m with you, Thea.”

“Oh stop it. You're going to make me blush.”

Dorothea’s cheeks are already stained red with embarrassment; El laughs at that.

“You’re already blushing!” El says. 

“S-Stop it!” Dorothea pouts. “I am not! Don’t be such a kid!”

“Hey, I’m ten years old!” El exclaims.

“Well… I’m eleven, so ha-ha!” Dorothea sticks her tongue out.

At first, El pouts, but bursts into a peal of uproarious laughter that warms Dorothea’s heart. If anyone told her she’d be this comfortable around _Edelgard von Hresvelg_ , she’d probably burst out laughing. Being El’s friend like this was once unthinkable; she couldn’t be gladder that she is now.

“Oh! I have to go!” El says. “Hubert is probably looking for me! He’s my bodyguard and he’ll probably kill you if he catches you! I’ll see you later, Thea!”

El runs off, waving. Those words send a chill down her spine, but it does make sense that the Imperial family has such a tight hold over the heir to the throne. Dorothea waves back, a smile stretched from ear to ear.

“I’ll see you soon, El!”

* * *

Dorothea struts onto the well-lit stage with an accompaniment of soft piano and percussion. Her heart is thrashing inside of her chest as the same thought replays in her head over and over: _This is my big moment. This is life or death._

She gazes out into the crowd and sees both her vocal coach and Manuela; they’re wearing the practiced smiles they have stretched across their lips every show. Manuela mouths, _You can do it_ ; Dorothea has no choice but to try to believe it.

_I can do it. I can do it. I can do it._

Looking further right, she finds El, seated in the front row with two imposing young men to the left and right of her. Despite how energetic she was earlier, now she’s as calm as a river stream. Once she notices Dorothea’s looking at her, though, El’s lips curl into a small smile. There’s no animated gesture or whispered praise—just the smile. It’s enough for her.

Dorothea closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before reopening them and beginning to sing. Her singing is an angelic aria for the soul. Even though there’s a sorrowful melody accompanying her vocals, it’s as if her vocals _are_ the music. Her eyes stay fixed to El for the entire performance who shares the gaze. The princess’ smile is wide the entire performance; Dorothea thinks it’s a testament to how well she’s doing and it only further boosts her confidence.

She finishes with a powerful fortissimo and is rewarded with a standing ovation. She’s done it.

* * *

Dorothea sits on the steps of her favorite bakery with a childlike smile. She’s gazing down at the loaf of bread arms she had bought with gold that Manuela had rewarded her with for a successful performance. Dorothea’s sure Manuela’s going to be disappointed that the money hadn’t gone to some fancy perfume or lipstick, but this is all she craves.

“You seem to like bread a lot.”

Dorothea perks up once she hears a familiar voice and her smile only widens once she sees the Imperial princess standing in front of her. Dorothea responds with a short nod and El sits next to her, wrapping her arms around her knees.

“I just wanted to tell you that your performance was stellar!” El says with vehement enthusiasm.

Dorothea giggles. “Thank you. It means so much to me that you’d say that. Oh, hold a moment.” She removes the plastic wrap from the bread and places it between her knee and elbow before breaking the bread, offering half to El. “Here.”

“It’s… for me?” El asks, dumbfounded.

“Of course it is!” Dorothea replies, her voice brimming with jubilance. “We’re a team! The whole performance I was looking at you! You helped to keep me calm, El.”

A brush spreads across El’s cheeks as her lips stretch into a demure smile. She takes the bread without a word and holds it against the chest with the care of a mother holding a newborn. As she looks down at it, a sigh escapes her coral lips.

“Thank you, Thea,” El whispers. Her volume increases as she speaks again. “For everything! Thank you for being my friend!”

“It’s no problem,” Dorothea says as she wraps an arm around El’s back. “It’s what friends do for one another.”

El leans in and nuzzles her neck; Dorothea’s cheeks turn a matching pink to El’s. The gesture alone is enough to make her heart beat fast. Maybe even faster than it did when she was about to perform. But despite all that, being with El like this… is comforting.

“I’m happy to have you as my friend,” El says. “A friend as generous and tenderhearted as you is truly a friend to cherish. But…”

As Edelgard trails off, Dorothea raises an eyebrow and repeats, “But?”

“What if I’m forbidden from seeing you, too?” El sits up and looks Dorothea right in the eyes with a small frown. “What if for some reason we, too, can no longer be friends?”

It’s a question Dorothea doesn’t like, but if El thinks it’s a possibility, then it’s something to consider. She puckers her lips as she contemplates the question, and it doesn’t take her long to think of an appropriate response.

“We’ll always be friends,” Dorothea starts. “I’m never going to forget you! You’ve enriched my life and helped me so much already, El! Even if we see one another once every three months, we’ll still be friends because we still value our time with one another. That’s what being friends is about. Plus, even if your father or whoever never allows you to see me again, don’t you think that when you’re the emperor you could just… drop by anytime? I don’t see myself leaving Mittlefrank anytime soon!”

“Dorothea, I—”

“Thea, El. We’re friends, and don’t you forget that.” She giggles. “But yes?”

“I’m sorry. I’m just… still worried.”

With a sigh, Dorothea grasps El’s hands and clutches them as if she doesn’t want to let go. She’s sure to maintain eye contact, staying silent at first. El’s solemn gaze burns her eyes, but she takes a short breath and tries to stay strong.

“El,” Dorothea starts, “you’re one of the few people to not… ridicule me because of my vampirism or social status. You looked out for me when I was hurt, not even knowing who I was. I’d be a damned liar if I really said people like you in this world weren’t like diamonds in the rough. So, I promise I’ll do all that I can to remain your friend. I’ll even go knocking on the castle doors and singing for you to come out all day and night if I have to. That’s how much you mean to me, El.”

El swings her arms around Dorothea and squeezes; Dorothea returns the hug. Neither of them talks for what feels like an eternity. They just hold one another. By now, Dorothea’s heart is certainly pounding faster than when she was about to perform. She can’t help but be more than a little anxious about how El took what she said.

“Thank you so much, Thea!” El murmurs. “Thank you so much…!”

“You’re welcome. And I meant everything I said. Swear on my life.”

El releases her, then hugs her immediately again, holding it for only a second; once again, Dorothea returns the hug. Once El releases her for the second time, she frantically nods, wearing a smile that sunny smile Dorothea’s come to know well.

“Okay,” El says. “I… I trust you. I believe you. You’ve made your care for me abundantly clear, so… I have something for you.”

“What is—?”

Dorothea gasps once she feels El’s lips against her cheek. The sensation isn’t foreign to her, but it’s something about El’s that makes her cheeks ignite. Once El pulls away, Dorothea wastes no time in returning the gesture, this time giving El two before nuzzling her cheek. Their giggles come in chorus.

“I have to go now, Thea,” El says. “Hubert will be looking for me soon. But I want you to write to me. Everyone knows the castle’s address. And if I don’t see a letter, I better see you outside my window singing for me!”

“I promise,” Dorothea says with a wink. “You can count on it.”

Edelgard rushes forward for another hug that Dorothea returns without any hesitation. They hold one another for a long while, not speaking. It’s Dorothea who breaks the ice this time.

“I love you, El.”

El simply chuckles. “I love you, Dorothea…”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I really wanted to write about vampire Dorothea. This fic was a lot larger than I thought it would be, but I really enjoyed writing it! If anyone would like to see a part two of this, I would be interested in working on it someday! Of course, you can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Hierarchycal) if you'd ever like to chat with me!


End file.
